At the City’s ceiling, a helicopter is making noise
What’s the occasion? An event or something?
From the veranda, the question is asked
As sunlight penetrates the day, You,
Like a cat in a room, lie down. My eyes,
in 8mm of film, saw someplace with the sun
in shades of blue.

The first time I came in, your room smelled like flowers
Before long, the voices in this white room will still be heard out in the morning streets
You’re face is turning red like a transfer student
She seems embarrassed, her smile seems desolate. Just what is
this girl trying to say?

Unexpectedly, was this a memory of a damaged
Summer landscape? Was it Winter? That I don’t know.
Every blink is an image of that time.
Every blink is an image of that time.

Before long, the voices in this white room will still be heard out in the morning streets
You’re face is turning red like a transfer student
She seems embarrassed, her smile seems desolate. Just what is
this girl trying to say?